Running with Scissors
by Tuckerdidit
Summary: POV HP, HG, and sometimes Ron. Everyone goes to the USA to avoid Voldemort, Harry finds a secret to his past, and Hr finds love in odd places. R&R please
1. Chapter 1, Unexpected Visitors

**Summary: They have to go to America to get away from Voldemort, he can't trace them there. Harry meets a very interesting girl who does interesting things to his stomach. Hermione also finds a little love, though she doesn't know it yet. Everyone's got someone, its just not who you expect!**

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It was a month past the summer solstice and there was still 40 days to go until the start of term on September first and Harry Potter was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, listless and yet restless at the same time. Wanting to get up and do something but too tired or too lazy, to make the first move. An unusual boy of almost 16, with black hair that went every which way and round glasses perched on his nose, looking through them were startling green eyes. The sun was setting outside the window, the last of the pink and orange rays mixing with the inky blue-black overtaking the sky. There was a soft knock on Harry's door.

Harry sat up, listening intently. No one knocked at this house, at least not on Harry's door. They usually just barged in, for this is the Dursley's house. Harry was a Potter, most unwelcome in this household. Neither nosy Aunt Petunia nor beefy Uncle Vernon bothered knocking. They had no respect for Harry's privacy. They only left him alone because they feared his powers. There was the knock again.

"Who is it?" Harry asked. The door opened and Dudley Dursley poked his head in. Dudley was the other boy in this house. He was 16, just a few months older than Harry. He'd been an overweight child all his life, until recently. Something had changed, and so had his resolve to escape the category of obese. He'd lost at least fifty pounds and it was really showing. His blond hair had been trimmed and he looked almost presentable. At the moment Dudley was looking tentative and hesitant. "What do you want?" Harry said shortly. Dudley bit his lip.

"I need to talk to you." he said, in a very quick voice. Harry looked at him. He was about to say no and tell him to shove off, but something about the way Dudley was looking at him made Harry allow Dudley entrance to his room.

"Ok... sure," Harry said. Dudley scurried in and quickly closed the door to Harry's bedroom behind him.

"I know you're not keeping the diet Harry." Dudley said.

"Ok." Said Harry. "That's great."

"So I wanna know where you're getting food!" exclaimed Dudley. He kept glancing around the room, his eyes widening with every 'abnormal' object he spotted in Harry's room, which were quite a few. There were spell books strewn all over the floor, a broomstick was sticking out from under the bed. Peering closely at it, Dudley noticed the markings that spelled out f-i-r-e-b-o-l-t. Dudley was lost. What did 'firebolt' mean? He looked very nervous indeed. He felt he was about to lose his mind when he spotted the wand on Harry's desk. Harry saw Dudley's anxiety. He gave a smirk.

"Go on Dud. Pick it up. Hand it to me." Harry said. Dudley shook his head frantically, but could not keep his eyes off of the narrow strip of wood. He seemed fascinated by it.

"That thing. Dad warned me about it. Said if I picked it up it would do h-h-horrible things to me... unnatural... ness..." Harry gave a mirthless laugh.

"Lies Dud. Just a lie. Precious daddy just doesn't want you to see the good side of anything. He isn't ready to have the wool taken off your eyes yet. Not sheltered little Duddykins. For now you're just his puppet who does-"

"Shut it." Said Dudley, his cheeks reddening.

"I mean, I would be tired of it by now if I were you. I would be tired of being pushed around by that old man-"

"I said to shut it!" said Dudley, very angrily indeed. He was on his feet and his fists were raised. Harry was slightly alarmed, but he tried to keep his cool as Dudley stood there, breathing very heavily, as though he'd just run a race. Harry stood up too. Harry was taller than Dudley had remembered. Harry's muscles seemed to be filling out underneath his too-big shirt. Dudley truly feared Harry. Not necessarily as a physical threat, but the magical power behind it. He wasn't sure quite how, but Dudley was quite convinced Harry would have some magic powers he could unleash without a wand if the need came to it. Being very frightened, he cast about for something he thought could help him. Dudley glanced at it the wand on the desk. His eyes flicked to it then back to meet Harry's gaze.

"I dare you" Harry mouthed. Dudley's eyes glanced once more at the wand, then back at Harry. Then he dived for it.

Harry didn't even try to stop him. He didn't think Dudley would seriously even touch the wand. But he was wrong.

In a flash, Dudley was standing upright and triumphant, gasping and clutching the wand in his right hand. Harry's green eyes widened in shock. But Dudley didn't seem to know what to do. He just stood there, clutching it. After a second or so, he decided he could wave it and make something happen.

And so he did. That was not a very good idea. For when a muggle tries to use a wizard's wand, the wand has a sort of anti-burglar / muggle security device in its initial instinct that of course goes off. The wand let out a loud bang and smoke started puffing from the end. A tinny whistle filled their ears. The was a flashing light coming from the tip, and in the midst of everything, there were two cracks, followed by two tall, red- headed, twins, identical down to the last freckle.

This, perhaps above everything else, was the thing that scared Dudley. The smoke and noise was what he had been half-hoping for. But the appearances of two people in the bedroom were a bit much for poor Dudley. He dropped the wand and ran screaming from the room.

"Hello, Harry" said one of the twins. His name was Fred Weasley. He was nineteen years old, brother of one of Harry's best friends, Ron Weasley.

"Good to see you, mate" said the other twin, George Weasley, shaking Harry's hand. Two seconds later a red-faced and panting Uncle Vernon burst into the room, shaking with fury.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY SON!" He roared, stopping dead at the sight of Fred and George. His pupils contracted with obvious fear. "Who are you?" he asked as rudely as he could while still being breathless.

"Fred Weasley." Said George, taking a mock bow and extending a hand towards Uncle Vernon.

"You nut." Said Fred. "You're George, and I'm Fred!" He too gave a mock bow.

"Ah yes." Said George, straightening up. "You're right of course. But I'm pleased all the same to make your acquaintance. We have decided to stay visit with Harry for a while. You don't mind do you?"

Before Uncle Vernon could answer however, Fred said "Excellent". And began conjuring comfy-looking armchairs and settling himself in one.

"Wait, WHAT HAPPENED TO MY SON?" Yelled Uncle Vernon. Fred paused while he was making himself at home, settling on his chair

"He picked up my wand!" Harry said. Fred nearly fell off the chair.

"What!" Everyone said in unison.

"He did not!" said Uncle Vernon, almost angrier than he had been at first.

"He did so!" said Harry hotly. "He was ready to pick a fight when the bloke grabbed it and starting waving it around."

"Then everything went berserk" Fred said promptly.

"You weren't there dung brains" said George.

"Oh yeah..." said Fred, winking at Harry.

"But the effects hadn't yet subsided, so we got to observe the results anyway." Continued George.

Uncle Vernon had been backing away slowly. "Get out of my house!" he hissed. "Get out and never contact my family again, you filth, you low, unworthy scrap of dirt-" he stopped short when Fred and George pulled out their wands.

"Say that again." George breathed. His wand was pointed directly at Vernon's heart. "Go on, say it again."

"Fred, George!" said Harry, trying to intervene.

"Get away, Harry." Said Fred.

Vernon backed into the doorway. With one last terrified look around the room and at Fred and George's wand, he tore out of the room. Fred chuckled as his wand turned into a rubber chicken and George's a tin haddock. Fred gently pushed Harry's door closed and turned around. Harry was still standing still, breathing a little heavy.

"You guys, you scared me." He breathed. "I thought you were going to hex him."

"We would have, had he been a wizard. Unfortunately, the Ministry of Magic happens to find out when you curse a muggle. Even Fudge wouldn't let that slide under these conditions." Fred said, with a smirk.

"What conditions?" Harry asked. Fred and George grinned.

"Oh, boy," said George, "he has been in so much hot water lately"

"Because of his ignorance to the truth staring him in the face-"

"So to kind of suck up to Dumbledore he has been letting a lot of things go unnoticed-"

"Curriculum standards at Hogwarts-"

"Aw it's going to be so great there this year, almost makes me wish I was going back-"

"At least Umbridge won't be there-"

"Wait, wait, wait," interrupted Harry. "I'm still confused..."

"Fudge is scrambling to save his-"

"Office?" Harry ventured.

"Well, no, I mean yes, but I was going to say his-"

"The point is, Fudge is not going to be Minister for very much longer."

"So who is going to replace him?"

"That," said Fred, with a significant look at George, "is a very good question."

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**Hola, c'est moi here! I am so excited about this story! It is going to go in crazy directions you won't believe. I already have quite a bit of it written, well five chapters as of right now. I want to explain something, It will switch point of views every so often, but you will be able to figure out who is talking. Actually I think it will be kind of easy, I'll tell you. I don't want you getting confused! I will post one a week on Sunday. Please review, anything is welcome. I want your guys' opinion, and if anyone wants to be like a beta reader thing, let me know at Happy reading!**


	2. Chapter 2, Confessions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize. **

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Harry sat down on his bed. "They're thinking of putting your dad in office?" he said 

incredulously.

"Yeah," said Fred, settling himself back in his chair. "Weird, huh?"

"More unexpected, I'd say." Said George.

"But... why?" Harry asked.

"What? Is there something wrong with Dad?" said Fred.

"No, no, that's not what I meant!" said Harry hurriedly.

"I know, I was just kidding." Fred said reassuringly.

"I meant, why him? Why not someone like Dumbledore?"

"You know Dumbledore would never leave Hogwarts. Mainly because he's there to protect you, but he still would rather be Headmaster than Minister of Magic." Said George.

"Yeah..." said Harry slowly and wistfully. He sighed

"What's up, mate?" Fred asked.

"Nothing." Harry said automatically. In truth, there was so much wrong. There was so much on his mind that he felt his brain was fit to burst. There was the fact that he no longer had a godfather. There was the fact that he was stuck at Number Four, Privet Drive until 'Dumbledore said' he could leave. There was the fact that he longed for his best friends company, and he could not see them or correspond with them until he saw them in person. Then there was the fact that he had no idea how long it would be until he could leave. Then there was the emptiness that had consumed him all summer. How much he wished he could turn back time and take back that whole evening in June. How much he wished he'd practiced his occlumency so he never would have had that vision.

Then there was the fact that he hated his fame and everything that came with it. Harry hated the Daily Prophet, he hated everyone that worked there, he hated how they all just jump on the nearest bandwagon, first reporting lies about him, then turning around and making him seem like the hero again.

There was the fact that his parents were dead and their killer was back, ready to kill Harry.

There was the prophecy that Harry heard for the first time. The reason Voldemort killed his parents. The reason Voldemort wanted to kill him. "Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives..." How was he supposed to keep all of this to himself?

But then, who was he supposed to tell?

The obvious choice was Ron and Hermione. But how could he explain this to them? How could he tell them that his fate had been sealed and he had no way of changing it? What was he supposed to do to make them understand? Harry couldn't think of anything.

"Harry?" said Fred, jolting him out of his reverie. Harry looked up.

"Yeah, sorry about that." He said, returning his gaze to the floor. After a few moments of silence he cast around for a new subject, landing on Fred and George. "So what are you guys doing here?"

Fred glanced at George, then back at Harry. "We... are here on a... a sort of mission."

"What's that?" asked Harry.

This time it was George glancing around. "We can't exactly tell you yet." Harry's anger, which had recently settled somewhere out of sight, began to surface. This was exactly what had happened last year. George, sensing Harry's anger, quickly said, "No, mate, don't get mad just yet. What I meant was you are sort of supposed to find out later. tonight. Or tomorrow. You'll see soon I promise." Harry opened his mouth to say something hotly when he heard his name being called from downstairs.

Aunt Petunia's shrill voice rang out again. "Harry Potter!" she screeched. "Get down here this instant!"

"That can't be good." He muttered to himself. Turning to Fred and George he said, "Guys, er, stay up here, will you? If I need you I'll call, but it's best to not test my aunt and uncle's tempers any more than necessary..." The twins nodded and Harry went into the hallway and went downstairs into the kitchen. He was greeted by his aunt, uncle, and cousin. Dudley was sitting in a chair, looking smug, but still a little worried. Petunia was looking furious, and Vernon looking livid.

"Diddy tells us what you've done to him." Petunia started.

"I haven't done anything." Harry said hotly.

"He said you used your... your... your thing on him." Said Vernon.

"I've already told you! He picked it up off of the desk!" Harry argued.

"What a rotten little liar" Aunt Petunia sniffed. "Little Diddy would never do such a thing."

Harry gave a mirthless laugh. "You really are quite stupid about your son."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Uncle Vernon growled.

"It means," said Harry, "That you swallow al his dim-witted lies about what he does each night. Do you ever wonder why he is out for tea so late each night? Or why he comes home smelling like smoke? Or how come there are so many bullying reports at school?"

"STOP!" yelled Dudley, getting to his feet.

"Or," Harry continued, ignoring his cousin, "Why he suddenly lost so much weight over the course of the year rather than gaining it?"

"I said to shut it!" shouted Dudley.

"Dudders, be quiet, you'll alert the neighbors!" Aunt Petunia. Both she and Uncle Vernon were gaping at Harry, who was grinning at Dudley's fury. He knew perfectly well that Dudley had lost weight because of the boxing, and the diet that he had been put back on this summer. But the truth still remained about the other things.

"You just have your noses to high in the air to notice anything wrong with your son. You're eyes notice every last detail of anything I've ever done wrong, but you've never noticed how Dudley brags about getting away with anything he pleases-"

"Now hold on just one second." Interrupted Uncle Vernon. "Are you saying we've raised someone who-"

"I'm saying," said Harry, "That those in glass houses shouldn't throw rocks."

"Well, then maybe," Petunia snarled, "You can get out of our house."

"Good idea." Uncle Vernon huffed.

"I can't..." Harry said blankly. "You know I can't. Dumbledore has told you, if I leave, and I never come back, what could happen."

"Then I wish you would die." Hissed Aunt Petunia. "Better off dead than spreading horrible rumors about Dudley. At least we wouldn't have to put up with you. At least you never would be our responsibility again, like you never should have."

Harry was doing his best to control his anger; he knew if it got the better of him the results would be catastrophic. "You shut up." He said in an even voice. "You have no idea how much I wish I could leave. You don't give a damn about me, you never have, and you never will. You never gave a damn about you sister, MY MUM, you never cared about anything." Aunt Petunia stood frozen, but sixteen years of hatred rose up in Harry, and he couldn't stop now. "You're only wish for me is that I would leave. Trust me, I want to. But I don't have a say in this. I never have a say in anything around here. Believe me, I wish I could get away. I wish I had somewhere to go, to get away from the reminders that you don't and never will care about the only family you have left." Petunia remained motionless.

"You have no idea what I went through with my sister." She said after moments of silence. "You don't know what it was like for me to watch my sister be the special one. You don't know what it was like for me to lose a best friend at such a young age. I hated watching her grow resistant to me because of what I wasn't" She sniffed. Harry was now the one who was shocked. Harry could see the tears forming in his aunt's eyes and realized for the first time how much explaining there was to be done.  
Harry sank slowly onto the couch in the living room. Dudley had been sent upstairs, the door had been closed, and it was just Harry, Vernon, and Petunia.

"I don't know where to start." Petunia said in a hushed voice. "I haven't talked about this in years. Nobody knows the whole story..." she looked out the window.

Vernon looked concernedly at his wife. "Just start from when your sister got the letter to go to that school, or perhaps a little before that?" as much as he wanted to deny that he had any contact with the wizarding world, he know this discussion was inevitable, and despite himself, he was curious.

Aunt Petunia sighed, and then began. "Lily and I were really good friends before she went off to that school. We would always hang out in the summertime, and after school. She didn't care that I was three years younger than her, and I loved being around her. Then, one day, she got that letter. The letter saying that my sister was going to be taken away from me. But that wasn't the worst part of it. It was horrible, watching everyone seem excited that she was leaving. Happy that she was going away. I was only eight, I was too young to even grasp what her learning m-m-m-... That meant. All I knew is that she was looking forward to leaving me. You don't know how much that hurt me.  
So I turned to only other way there was, away from her. Away from anything that had to do with her, away from anything she had to do with. That school, her friends, that boy... I missed her so much. Even when I was older, when she'd come home for the summer and perform tid-bits of what she learned, I couldn't bring myself to be happy. I was so jealous of all the attention she got. I was angry that she never shared it with me. I hated being the one that was pushed aside.  
When I got the invitation to her wedding, I almost refused to go. I decided to give her one last chance. She blew it. I was ignored, pushed aside, the only one at the reception who wasn't like them. She didn't even acknowledge me as a sister, or even a friend. I was just another guest, another face.  
So when I saw you, Harry, on our doorstep after more than two years of silence from my sister, I did not want anything to do with you. I hated you. I only read the letter that man wrote to see if there was any way of returning you to your people. But the words of that man softened me momentarily. He wrote of Lily and how she spoke of missing me, and how she regretted letting us lose touch. He wrote of how we were your last chance. He made me remember the love I once felt for her." Petunia's eyes welled up with tears. Her voice shook as she recalled the pain she'd kept bottled up for all of these years. "Having you here was a constant reminder of what had happened. Every time I looked at your eyes I thought about her, about how I never even got to say good-bye. It killed me. I didn't want you enjoying yourself when your mother had hurt me. I couldn't stand to see you happy because it made me think of how happy she was without me."

Harry couldn't think of anything to say. He opened his mouth, but closed it again. After several minutes of extremely uncomfortable silence, he said, "So, uh, when did you hear... my dad... tell my mum... about the dementors," remembering what she had said last year about overhearing James tell Lily about the guards of Azkaban.

Aunt Petunia drew a shuddering gasp. "At the wedding." She whispered, almost inaudibly. "They were also talking to the best man... I don't remember much about him."

"Hold on," Harry said, and he made a dash upstairs. As he tore out into the hall he was surprised that Dudley wasn't there, attempting to listen. But he wasn't paying much attention as he hurried upstairs and began digging through his possessions. He was so distracted he didn't notice Fred and George's absence in his room. It didn't even register that they should have been there. Finally he found what he was looking for, a thick leather bound picture album. Flipping through it, he found the picture he was looking for, and hurried back downstairs.

"Is this him? The best man?" Harry said, panting slightly.

Aunt Petunia nodded, seeming unable to speak. The tears that had been forming began to fall slowly down her cheeks onto her lap, but she made to effort to stop the tears from falling. Harry was in utter disbelief. Never before had he seen such a display of emotion from his aunt. All of these years he'd thought her to be someone who had no heart, except when it came to her son. The only thing that seemed to matter to her, aside from her reputation.

"And what was the last? That Dumbledore told you to remember in that howler-" he stopped short at the sharp intake of breath that Aunt Petunia drew.

"I'm going to go check on Dudders. He must be feeling awfully hurt after what we did to him." She said, standing up and regaining her snappish tone. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and walked out of the room without another word. Uncle Vernon quickly followed his wife out of the room. Harry was left alone and almost more confused than ever. Sure, Aunt Petunia's confession helped explain why they hated the wizarding world so much, but he still didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him about the Howler? What was she hiding?

Harry slowly got up and traveled back upstairs, taking the leather bound book with him. As he was dragging his feet up the steps he suddenly remembered that his room was empty. His heart quickened and so did his pace. Then he heard an ear-splitting scream that made his heart stop almost altogether.

Taking the steps three at a time he rushed to Dudley's room, stopping dead at the scene that greeted him.

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Author's note: cliffie!  



	3. Chapter 3, No Longer, Sirius

There is only one word that can sum up the scene. And that word is "chaotic". Literally everything was everywhere. Dudley's many pillows were strewn all over, feathers were still floating around. There were clothes covering every surface. The bookshelf, not that Dudley ever read, it was usually filled with video games, was empty, its contents had been dumped on the floor. And there was Dudley, in the middle of it all, his face red with rage, and Harry noted how much he resembled Uncle Vernon. It was difficult for Harry to work out what happened, especially with Aunt Petunia wailing. Fred and George were creeping along the wall towards the doorway, attempting to escape unnoticed. However, Aunt Petunia's eyes were sharp.

"You! WHO ARE YOU? What are YOU doing in my son's bedroom!" she shrieked.

"Er, leaving, actually." George said shortly, and Harry noticed he was concealing something behind his back. Aunt Petunia noticed too.

"What is that?" she snapped. "What are you taking from my son?" George froze, then he cracked an evil grin. He whipped out his wand. Dudley's mother screamed and ran over to him, and tried to shield him from the "evil ones". Harry felt a sudden stab. He couldn't help the tears that were forming, especially after what Petunia had just told him. This is _exactly_ what his mother had done for him. (Only that was from actually danger, Fred and George wouldn't hurt them). She threw herself in the line of fire to protect her son. Harry thought there had to be a heart in there somewhere.

The twins took advantage of the absence of Aunt Petunia in the doorway to run out of there as fast as they could. Harry followed them, looking back with wonder at his aunt.

"What was that all about in there?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"He took something of ours." Growled Fred.

"Well of the Order's…" George corrected him.

"What was it?" said Harry eagerly.

"Technically, we aren't supposed to tell you. We were in here, er, using it, when your cousin thought he'd peer in here for something. We didn't notice, for a big guy he sure is quiet-"

"Anyway," George interrupted, "We went to go get it back, and he wouldn't, said he didn't have it, so we went looking for it…" Harry snorted. That was a bit of an understatement.

"Is that what you were hiding when you whipped out the want instead?" Harry said.

"Oh, yeah. Good thing I had a few tricks up my sleeve…"

"You git." Said his brother, shaking his head. "Well, we'll be off then." And he made to stand up as if he was leaving.

"Wait, what?" exclaimed Harry. "What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, I'M the git." Said George, "We haven't even accomplished what we set out to do!" Fred hit himself in the head.

"Of course! Here, take this Harry." He pulled something out of his pocket. It was about the size of a paperback book, in a large envelope. "This is what we came to do. I'm really sorry, but we must go-"

"But, when do I get out of here?" Harry protested.

"It's all explained in there." Said George, motioning to the envelope which was now in Harry's hands. "Just follow those instructions, follow them exactly." And with a loud crack, there were off. Harry stared at the envelope that was in his hands. He reached for the seal, ready to pry it open, when his door banged open. The whole of the Dursley family was standing there, glaring daggers at him.

"What was _that_?" his uncle hissed. "What are you playing at? We've already had neighbors knocking seeing if something was going on? Do you mind keeping it down!" Harry just looked at them.

"Get out." He said, turning back to the envelope. He noticed Dudley's eyes bulging.

"That was it mum! That was what they were holding!" he said, pointing.

"This was the thing you stole?" Harry said. Dudley, his eyes getting even wider, shook his head. But Harry has had his emotions jerked around too much today to bother being patient. "Out!" he said again, and when no one moved, he reached for his wand. They scattered. Finally he got the seal open, and let what was inside fall into his hand.

It was a box, about six inches long, four inches wide, and ¾ an inch deep or so. It was gold, or at least gold-colored. It sent tingling sensations up Harry's fingers. He noticed hinges on one side. Slowly, carefully, he lifted the lid.

The inside of the box rather disappointed Harry. There wasn't anything shiny or sparkly in it. Just a few fragments of parchment with writing on them in a language he didn't understand. There was another small object in the box, it looked to Harry like a dead fly. Wrinkling his nose in disgust he picked up the parchment and made sure the fly was not on them. They were torn up, so he pieced it together carefully, tediously, and after a half an hour or so he had it all worked out, and it still made no sense.

He looked back in the box to make sure he hadn't missed anything. He noticed for the first time faint writing, and it seemed to fade the moment he saw it. "Use your wand" He took it out, and tapped the parchment. Nothing happened. He hit it harder. Again, nothing happened. He cast his mind about. "Reveal your secret?" he ventured. And nothing continued to happen. "Show yourself!" No result. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good" he joked. And the words began to rearrange themselves into symbols recognized. "I was only kidding…" he said amazed. Once the words were all in English, the parchment sealed itself together, so it was in one piece. This is what Harry read:

_Harry-_

_Congratulations on figuring out how to open this! I knew you would figure it out, especially because I know how clever youa re. If you are reading this, then I am gone. I am very sorry about this. I hope this was not too hard on you, as it was for me to write this knowing it might one day be given to you. I am very sorry to have left you at such an important time in your life._

_I don't know how I died, or what happened to me afterward, but I want to make sure you are in good hands. In the box now should be instructions on what happens to you after I pass away. _

_Please know that I loved you. I loved you as my own son and as the best friend I lost all those years ago. I want you to be strong. I do not want you to spend too much time grieving over me. You still have Remus. He can look after you know, if the need arises. Dumbledore has told me that you are to call the Dursey's house your home, because that is where you are safest. But there is something that you did not know about, that no one knew about, and you should be the first to know. When you next go to Grimmauld Place, go in the basement, you will find the stairs in a concealed door behind where the troll's leg umbrella stand should be. Just put your hand to the door and whisper "Opandious". The wall will melt away and you will follow the stairs. Down there will be a lot of things covered in dust. There will be boxes, open the one labeled "old cloaks". There are several things of high use to you in there. I cannot explain, but you will know._

_I must go now; it pains me to know that I cannot be there to look out for you. Keep your head up, listen to Dumbledore. I know you resent it, but it's the best thing for you right now. _

_No longer,_

_Sirius Black_

Harry looked up, his eyes full of tears. Glancing back at the box, it did indeed have another piece of parchment. He picked it up and read it. On it were detailed instructions about how Harry got everything. What was left of the Black fortune, Grimmauld Place and everything in it, and, last of all, his motorbike. All guardian duties had been delegated to Remus Lupin. (Who, according to the will, would have been James' second choice.)

Harry looked again at the envelope, and there was a piece of parchment that had not been in there before. This was the big, loopy handwriting he'd come to recognize and always brought foreboding. He unfolded it and began to read.

_Harry,_

_You are going to be leaving the Dursley's shortly. But you must follow these instructions exactly, in this order. _

_First, pack everything up. You are leaving tonight, after all. I cannot explain to you fully in this, but you will be told all that you need to know upon arrival. Make sure you have everything, and do not forget anything. Make sure you bring everything that was in that box also. That is very important. _

_Second, after you have packed everything up, leave your house at 8:37 p.m., sharp. Turn left onto Privet Drive and keep walking until you get to Mrs. Figgs' house. She has something for you. Make sure you send Hedwig off with a letter, she won't enjoy this. _

_Dumbledore_

Quite suddenly, Harry stood up. He did exactly what had been instructed. He took a piece of parchment and wrote "See you soon! Yours Truly, Harry" tied it to Hedwig, and told her to send it to Ron. He packed everything up, and he looked at the clock. 8:32. He went downstairs.

"Well, I'm off." He said to the Dursleys, who were all in the living room, watching TV.

"What?" Said Aunt Petunia, looking around in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"Away." Said Harry. "Good bye. I don't know how long it will be before I see you again." And he opened the front door and walked out into the cool night air.


	4. Chapter 4, Bored at the Burrow

Ron lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had absolutely nothing to do. He'd done everything he could think of, he'd even helped his mom clean out the gnomes in the garden. _That had been way fun_, he thought sarcastically. He just wanted something to happen. He was sick of cleaning, because that is what he'd taken to doing when there was nothing else to do. He'd tried bonding with Ginny, but she didn't really want to talk, and no way was he going to try to talk to Fred and George.

Ron sat up. "Wait a minute." He said to himself, "Where are they? They didn't have to work today…" He got up and went downstairs.

"Mum where are Fred and George?" he asked his mother, who was busy cleaning the kitchen.

"Oh, they're off doing something…" Mrs. Weasley muttered, not looking at Ron.

"Like what? Why couldn't I have gone with them?" Ron said, moaning and sinking into a chair.

"Because, sweetheart, it was for the order… sort of." She replied.

"Sort of?" asked Ron.

"Not entirely…" she said, somewhat distractedly.

"Mum!" said Ron indignantly.

"They went to deliver something, they will be back soon. Can you relax please?" Mrs. Weasley snapped. Ron took a step back. Mrs. Weasley looked around and saw his look of surprise. "Oh Ron, I'm so sorry. I'm just so stressed out, I've got to get this place clean before we leave…"

"We're leaving?" said Ron, his heart leaping. "Even me?

Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Yes, you too. Everyone is going to be there. We leave in an hour, so go get your stuff packed."

Ron let out a joyful whoop and raced up the stairs, nearly knocking Ginny over.

"What's the rush?" she said.

"We're leaving, we're leaving," he sang.

"Where are we going?" she asked excitedly.

"Dunno…" said Ron, thinking. "MUM!" he shouted down the stairs. "WHERE ARE WE GOING?"

"GRIMMAULD PLACE!" Mrs. Weasley called.

"There you go." Said Ron, smiling at Ginny, and he ran up to his room to get packed.

**(I decided to give you this mid-week since it's so short. But you get a long one on Sunday.)**


	5. Chapter 5, Good Morning Sunshine

"Meow, meow."

What was that noise? Somebody make it stop.

"Meow!" More persistent this time. "MEOW!"

"Fine, you stupid cat!" said Hermione, giving in to the inevitable and getting out of bed to let Crookshanks out. She looked at the clock. It blinked 7: 27. She sighed. "Of course, this couldn't have waited another hour." She said to herself, crawling back in bed. But she couldn't get comfortable again. She cursed Crookshanks under her breath, put on her slippers and bathrobe and went downstairs.

Hermione could smell the coffee brewing the minute she was outside of her room. She could hear her mother bustling around in the kitchen. Hermione smiled. Her mother was such a morning person; she always loved to be up before the sunrise if she had anything to do with it.

"Good morning!" said Hermione cheerily when she got into the kitchen.

"Oh good morning sunshine!" said her mother brightly. "Why are you up so early?"

"Crookshanks." Said Hermione. Mrs. Granger nodded knowingly.

"Yeah, that cat is a pain to sleep in the same room with." She said.

"Tell me about it." Said Hermione. "So do you have any breakfast plans?" she asked.

"Well no, why don't we go out?" her mother said.

Hermione smiled. She missed going out to breakfast with her mom while she was at Hogwarts. "That sounds great! I'll go get dressed." And she went back upstairs. She stared at herself in the mirror. Hermione had grown a little over the summer, and she wore her height with pride. Her hips were a little curvier and her shirts now fit a little tighter. Picking a white blouse to wear with jeans, she didn't bother with make-up and she ran a brush through her hair, and she went back downstairs.

Hermione and Mrs. Granger walked together to a nearby café. It was their usual breakfast spot. Hermione sighed happily. It seemed ages ago that they were here last. They sat down and a waiter brought them menus.

"What are you going to have?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"Probably the usual." Said Hermione. "Cheese omelet with a small side of hash browns. What about you mum?"

"Their breakfast burrito sounds good today. Ham, egg and cheese on a fresh tortilla." The waiter came and asked them if they were ready. They placed their orders; Mrs. Granger got a mocha to go with her breakfast and Hermione a hot chocolate. While they were sitting and waiting her father walked to them.

"Daddy!" said Hermione, and got up and hugged her father.

"Hey sunshine!" he said. "Hey, a letter came for you. An owl again." Hermione smiled apologetically. Her dad pulled out an envelope. "Here you go. I've got to go to work, I just thought I'd bring this too you on the way." He kissed his wife and continued walking. Their dentist office was just down the street.

Mrs. Granger's phone rang. Hermione took this opportunity to read the letter. Her smile increased the further she read. Mrs. Grander hung up. "So what does it say?"

"My friend Ginny is inviting me to her house! Is it alright if I go, I will probably be staying a while." She said. Her mother sighed in a submissive way.

"I guess. But please write, and maybe come say hi before the holiday is out?" she asked. Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

"Definitely, I will!" she said. Their breakfast came, and they ate in happy silence. At least Hermione did. Her mother had a sad air about her, and her daughter could sense it. "Mum, what's the matter?" Mrs. Granger shook her head, and continued eating. But Hermione kept looking at her mother, knowing that something was going on.

"You're just growing up on me, that's all." She said.

"Is that ok?" asked Hermione nervously.

"Oh dear it's just fine. Part of life. I mean goodness you're almost seventeen aren't you? My Hermione, almost all grown up." Hermione shook her head in wonder. Her mother was something of a mystery. "So how will you be getting there?"

"Oh, um, well, actually the letter is a sort of transport thing, as long as I'm holding the envelope it will take me there around three, at least that's what it said." Her mother looked up.

"Oh you're leaving today?" she said in surprise.

"Is that ok?"

"Yes, but your summers here are just getting shorter and shorter." Said Mrs. Granger. Hermione looked at her mother, and suddenly it hit her. Her mother thought that she was trying to get away from the house! She thought Hermione wanted to leave.

"Oh mom I don't have to go if you don't want me to leave!" she said concernedly.

"No honey, it's alright. Have a good time, won't you?" Said Mrs. Granger.

They finished breakfast in silence, and walked back in silence. Hermione walked back upstairs to get packed for leaving. She had lied about going to Ginny's. The letter was from Dumbledore, explaining that she needed to come to Grimmauld place, that it was urgent. However, Hermione had thought it best that her mother not know that. She took out her school trunk and began packing everything in it. Hermione packed her robes, her hat, her wand, her books, her neatly finished homework, and her cauldron and potions supplies.

Hermione looked around the room before she took her trunk downstairs. She glanced at the clock. It was now noon. She went downstairs. While in the kitchen, she spotted a note from her mother.

_I've gone to the store; I'll make a nice going away lunch! Be back around 12:30. _

_Love, Mom._

Hermione packed that in her trunk too.

"This is delicious!" said Hermione, halfway through her gourmet-mother-made Turkey and cheese sandwich, no mayonnaise please.

"Thank you." Said Mrs. Granger.

In truth Hermione was a little sad to be leaving so soon. She now only saw her parents for about two months a year, and she was cutting it short with going to Grimmauld place. But she knew it was alright. She'd been in little fights with her mom all summer, and she supposed that she was getting older.

Hermione and Mrs. Granger popped in a chick flick to kill the remaining time until three while her father went back to the office. They laughed, gasped, and cried together, Hermione felt loved, and she knew that she loved her mum. The movie ended around a quarter to three.

"Well, I better get Crookshanks." Said Hermione.

"What?" said Mrs. Granger. "You're taking him with you?"

"Yeah, why not?" said Hermione.

"I don't think that's a good idea." She said.

"What?" said Hermione. "why not?"

"Hello! You're going to your friend's house. That is rude to impose on their family like that with an animal!"

"Mum, Crookshanks is well-trained and very well behaved."

"I don't want you to take him" said her mother flatly.

"Oh yeah?" challenged Hermione. "He is _mine_, remember? He was a _birthday_ present. To _me_, _from you_."

"Ok, so I paid for him. Look at him, he's getting old! It's not good for him to be carried around like this? What if he doesn't like the transport system? And he hates your train too."

"Mum, why don't you just come out and say you want him because either you're attached to him-"

"That's ridiculous" said Mrs. Granger with an air discomfortingly like Professer Trewlawny.

"-or doyou want me to be miserable because it hurts your feelings that I would want to go to a friend's house rather than be here." Mrs. Granger looked shocked.

"You can have him back when you go to Hogwarts." She said in an even, tone, which nonetheless conveyed her distaste at the idea. All the sense of love Hermione had felt earlier was gone, completely gone.

"Fine, take him. I can't believe you. Taking Crookshanks from me so I won't be completely happy? You are being so selfish!"

"I'm your mother, it is my job to decide what is best--"

"You just want the cat because you've become attached to him and don't want to see everything about me go. This has nothing to do with what is best for me, and you know it." Hermione stormed out, grabbed her letter and her trunk, and waited. Three 'o' clock did not come fast enough.

* * *

**Ok, this took a million years to get up, and I'm really sorry. I've just been debating about whether or not I should continue writing this since HBP came out. So if anyone wants me to keep going, please let me know... otherwise i'm probably just going to discontinue it or something. **


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